Little Moments
by Sagethorn
Summary: A series of small Clara/11 oneshots based on one-word prompts. Friendship-y, maybe some romance.
1. Picnic

**[Author's Note: Dear God, I can't believe I'm doing this, but I'm too far in to turn back now. I'm writing a Clara/11 fanfic. Guys, I can't even. I don't even ship them! But I suddenly was feeling very rebellious against myself and write-y, so a one-word prompt series was born. I took words from my friends, the internet, and my own mind, and ended up with about 55 words. I tossed them all in a hat, shook it up, and everyday or so will pick a new word and write a little oneshot of it. I'm aiming more towards friendship-y stories, but romance will probably be inevitable, even if it kills me. Enjoy! :3]**

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Chapter 1:

**Picnic**- (_noun_) Friends sitting on a blanket eating out of a basket and pretending to enjoy the scenery.

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"And see that section over there? Waaaay down there, say, about three and a half steps away from that tree? In about 350 years that will be where the first troops stand to start the revolution that will eventually- Clara? Clara, are you even listening?" The Doctor propped himself up on the heels of his hands and squinted at his companion.

"Hmm?" Clara murmured, opening one eye from where she was stretched out lazily on the red and white checkered blanket. They were set up in the middle of a large, flat grassy field, underneath the planet's lavender-tinted sky.

"Aren't you listening? This is a very important history lesson!" The Doctor protested. "You never know when you might need information like this."

"Oh, yeah. I'm sure questions like that turn up all the time." Clara deadpanned. She leaned over, scooped up an apple off the picnic blanket, studied it idly for a moment, then tossed it neatly to the Doctor.

He caught it in one hand, grinned, and bit into it. He pulled a face and spit the chunk of apple out onto the grass next to him.

"Never did like those." He commented, twirling the partially-eaten fruit around in his hand. Clara rolled her eyes and settled back down on the blanket again, plucking blades of grass form the field absentmindedly with one hand as she stared up at the cloudless sky.

She closed her eyes sleepily but was forced to open them again a moment later upon realizing the Doctor had resumed his history lesson.

"Be happy I got us to the right time her, Clara. If we had come about 50 years later, this whole field would be practically gone. Replaced by houses and skyscrapers and roads that turn up as soon as some people turn up to live here. Well, technically they do leave a small section of this field alone for historical purposes, although last time I checked the police here don't usually approve of picnickers. Although-"

Clara sat up finally in irritation. "Doctor!" She shouted, stopping him in the middle of a sentence.

"Hmm?" He questioned, turning to look at her as he tossed his apple back and forth between his hands.

"I don't care!" She said, slowly and distinctly. "I just wanted to have a nice picnic, not spend the entire time listening to you ramble on." She sighed, and her voice became a little softer. "Can't we please just have a few moments of peace?"

"Right. Of course." The Doctor said sheepishly, looking away. He tossed the apple up into the air, caught it neatly, and then dropped it back into the picnic basket. He flopped down backwards, laying splayed out on his back on the blanket.

Clara smiled slightly and scooted over so she was laying down next to him. She reached over gingerly and took his hand in hers, squeezing it slightly. He turned his head to grin at her and then rolled back over to stare up at the sky.

Over on the horizon, the silvery sun was staring to dip down, turning the lavender of the sky a more deeper, royal purple, which swirled slightly, as if it were made of water.

"The sky here is actually very unique." The Doctor commented suddenly. "Do you know what makes it look like that?"

"No." Clara replied.

The Doctor turned slightly to look at her. "Do you want to know?"

She grinned. "Nope." She said, rolling over and tucking her head into the hollow between his shoulder and his arm. He chucked slightly and pulled his arm around her.

"Nice picnic though." Clara murmured, closing her eyes.

"Well, I am notorious for knowing some of the best picnicking spots in the universe." The Doctor replied. "It's the kind of thing you learn when you travel around as much as me."

"So that's what you do?" Clara asked. "Travel around in your box so you can scout of picnic spots?"

"Among other things." The Doctor replied simply. He glanced over at her, slumped tiredly against his shoulder. "Anything wrong with that?"

Clara opened her eyes and smiled at him. "Absolutely not." She pressed herself tighter against him and turned her eyes back to watch the sunset.

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**[Author's Note: Not bad for the first chapter. The characters may seem a little OOC at first, because this is only my second DW fic ever and I'm struggling a bit to get the hang of them, but I'm hoping I'll get better as these go along. Next chapter will be up very soon. Please review! Thank you. :3]**


	2. Fight

**[Author's Note: Thank you so much to my lovely reviewers! Glad to know this doesn't totally suck, haha. Anyway, next chapter. I kind of wish I had pulled out a different prompt, because this chapter is rather angst-y and I wanted to keep things light-hearted for a bit, but the hat-of-prompts doesn't lie. Maybe this will be okay after all. :3]**

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Chapter 2:

**Fight-** (_noun_) an angry struggle between two or more people, usually because of a strong disagreement.

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"Clara, come on." The Doctor ordered for the third time and he turned and began to walk away, to where he could see the TARDIS in the distance.

Clara spun around and raced after him. "Doctor, wait!" She shouted angrily, sprinting to keep up with his longer-legged stride. "Where are you going?"

"To the TARDIS." He said stiffly, stopping for a moment to let her catch up. "Come along."

"What? Do you not see what's going on?" She cried, flinching at the sound of a rapid burst of gunfire in the distance behind them.

"Yep. Come on." He spun on his heel and continued walking. The smoke from the nearby fires had reached them, making the air thick and ashen.

"No!" Clara shouted. "You can't honestly be telling me you're just going to-"

There was a loud explosion from behind them, and the Doctor grabbed Clara's arm, throwing her and himself roughly to the ground as a piece of burning shrapnel flew past them, smashing into the ground a few feet away.

"Come on, Clara, we need to leave now." The Doctor said as they struggled up from the scorched earth. He grabbed her hand in his, not in an affectionate manner but more as a means of controlling her, as he began to pace away again.

"Doctor, stop!" Clara shouted, prying his fingers off hers and jumping back. He turned to face her and and she crossed her arms over her chest, not moving. "We're not just leaving!"

"Yes we are." The Doctor repeated. He stared for a moment at the look on Clara's dirt-streaked face and swallowed. "I'm sorry." He said softly. "We have to."

"Why?" She demanded angrily. "We were here when this started, we can't just run away!"

The Doctor looked nervously at the bombardment in the rapidly-shrinking distance. "Clara, we can't stay here. The fighting will come this way, it's not safe."

"Why do we deserve to be safe and the people back there don't?" Clara challenged.

"Clara, we can't get involved in a war battle." The Doctor said firmly. "We can't risk changing who wins, and I can't let you run out into gunfire!"

"Why did you take us here then!" Clara cried out. She was shaking, and her voice was beginning to rasp from the smoke quickly filling the air.

"I didn't know." The Doctor panted. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I forgot what happens today."

"Then it's your responsibility to help them!" Clara snapped. She broke off coughing, and the Doctor tried once more to lead her away. She slapped his hand and stepped back. "That person we were just talking to back in that shop, you just watched them get shot! How can you just watch something like that?"

"What do you want me to do?" He snapped.

"Go help the rest of the people!" She replied. When he didn't make any move she turned on her heel and glared back at him. "If you're not going to help, I will. I made friends back there, I'm not going to run off while they die!" She began to move back towards the wall of fire and bullets they had come from.

"Clara, stop!" The Doctor shouted. When she continued away into the smoke, he lunged forward, grabbing her roughly by the arms and pulling her back away from the fight.

She cried out in protest and tried to lash out at him with an elbow, but he pulled her arms sharply behind her back, holding her immobile. She cried out in pain at his tight grip, and a stab went through his chest, but he continued hauling her backwards despite her struggling to get free.

He continued staggering backwards through the smoke until his back bumped into the TARDIS doors. Without a second thought he shoved them open, flung his protesting companion in, and stepped through, slamming the door behind him.

He blocked her out as she shouted angrily at him for several minutes, instead just walked quietly around the console, flipping this switch and pressing that button to take them swiftly away from the mess of bullets and flames and dying.

Clara finally grew quiet and instead dropped down on one of the console-room chairs, her face stiff and impassive. He tried to catch her gaze but she looked stubbornly away, her eyes streaming from the smoke residue.

"Clara," The Doctor began after a few minutes of silence. She shook her head angrily, still refusing to look him in the eye.

Quietly, he stepped towards her and hesitantly placed a hand gingerly on her shoulder. She didn't respond, or even acknowledge his presence by her side. Gently, he squeezed her shoulder comfortingly.

She didn't even look up, and he sighed, looking up at the ceiling lights but not removing his hand from his companion's shoulder. And a few moments later he felt her gently lay her hand on top of his and give it a slight squeeze.

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**[Author's Note: That... actually turned out pretty decent, although I feel like I'm still struggling with the characters. I hope I'll get better. Anyways, that was nice, I like angst-y-ness. But this fic will be alot more fluff than angst, don't worry. Unless you liked this, in which case I will be quite happy to write more. Review, s'il vous plaît! :3]**


	3. Delicate

**[Author's Note: Did you guys catch the episode tonight? All I can say is WOW! It was pretty awesome. Anyway, onto the third chapter of my story! For anyone who wasn't a huge fan of the angst in the previous chapter, this one is a bit sweeter. I let my brother pick the prompt from the hat, and after putting three of them back because they sounded 'stupid', he settled on this one. Enjoy! :3]**

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Chapter 3:

**Delicate** (_adjective_)- Fragile, breakable, easy ruined.

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"Clara!" The Doctor called. "Are you coming? I think we're in the right place now, so we probably won't have to, you know, run for our lives this time." He flicked one last lever on the TARDIS console, not for any real reason other than to do something with his hands, and waited patiently for a few moments for his companion.

After several long seconds of silence, he called again. "Clara? Are you okay?"

A muffled reply came from down one of the long hallways, "I'll be there in a moment!"

The Doctor sighed and leaned idly against the console, running his fingers across the buttons and switches as he waited for the girl to appear.

After a minute of two Clara's face popped around the corner of the doorway. "Hello!" She called.

"Hello!" The Doctor smiled. "Ready to go now? Lots to do, things to see." He bounded across the room and grabbed the door handle. "Care to come?"

Clara flashed him a huge grin and ran across the sleek metal floor to stand next to him. "Ready to go." She affirmed, and he took her hand to lead her out. Something rough that was definitely not the normal softness of her palm rubbed against his skin.

Confused, he lifted her hand up for examination. A white gauze bandage had been wrapped around and around her palm. A slight reddish stain was just visible through the cloth. He ran his thumb across it, and she stiffened, snatching her hand back.

"What's happened there?" He questioned.

"I slipped and cut it on the rocks while we were running from those 'friends' of yours." She said, giving her hand a brief glance before stuffing it into the pocket of her jacket. She smiled at him and tapped the door. "Can we go now?"

The Doctor stared at her for a moment, not making any move to leave yet. He nodded slightly to where she had hidden her injured hand. "Can I see it?"

Clara huffed and slowly drew her hand from her pocket, holding it out for examination. The Doctor took it carefully, lightly running his fingers across the surface of the bandage. The red splotch on the gauze was slowly growing darker as blood pooled into it. It was probably a much deeper cut than should be solved with a piece of cloth.

He should have noticed she'd been hurt; how had he not seen her fall, or hear her cry out, or seen her holding her hand? He'd forgotten how delicate she could be, how easily damaged. In fact, she somehow seemed more fragile to him than most other people he'd met. Wasn't it his job to protect her? He said he would keep her safe; he would. "You should have told me you got hurt, Clara." He said, looking back up at her.

She shrugged. "I'm fine. I fixed it up in the bathroom."

"Still must hurt." He commented.

"Well, cuts do tend to do that." She deadpanned, wincing as he prodded at it too hard. "Ow! Leave it alone already."

"Sorry." He said, moving his fingers away. She pulled her hand back sharply and placed it at her side.

She turned around and took a step through the doors. "Are you coming, or am I going exploring by myself?" She asked.

"Yes, fine. Lead the way." The Doctor said, waving his hand in the direction of the land outside. "Just be careful this time!" He added quickly. Clara smiled and ducked through the doorway, scampering off happily. And after a moment she was followed by the Doctor, who caught up next to her and reached out, taking her hand safely in his own.

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**[Author's Note: And there's my chapter for the day. These are ridiculously fun to write! I think I'll get a little better at writing them now that I've recently got to hear their voices again in tonight's episode. In fact, I should probably start writing the next one while it's still fresh in my head. Expect another chapter tomorrow. Pretty please review! :3]**


	4. Cards

**[Author's Note: Ello Ello Ello! Good morning, my friends! (Or, at least, it was morning when I started writing this...) As usual, thank you for all the reviews and favorites and follows. Here's your chapter of the day! I originally tried to let my friend pick the prompt, but he and my brother got into a fight and threw prompt papers everywhere, so I had to confiscate the hat. So I picked one instead. Here's a little all-dialogue chapter for you. :3]**

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Chapter 4:

**Cards** (_noun_)- A game that _looks_ simple

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"Clara, put down another card."

"I just did."

"No, you have to put another one down now."

"Okay, okay."

"No, not there. Put it there."

"Isn't that the discard pile?"

"Only if you played an odd-numbered card."

"This game makes no sense, have I mentioned?"

"Several times, yes. And this is actually considered a very simple game on this planet. It's the kind children play, like go-fish."

"Well, sorry. The card games I remembered playing as a kid never used a deck with 12 numbers I've never even heard of. Also, we never had to play in order to escape execution."

"Yes, well, this certainly makes the game more interesting. It's your move again."

"Okay. Um... there."

"Oohh..."

"What? Isn't that a good card?"

"Well, no. Actually, that's a very bad card."

"You said that's one of the best ones!"

"No, that's this one. They look similar, but this number is somewhere around the value of 17, and that one is about a 2."

"So what, did I lose?"

"No, not yet. You just pretty much destroyed any progress you were making and made it very _likely_ you will lose."

"Great. It's your turn now, anyway."

"Okay then... ah ha!"

"Is it necessary to slap the table like that every time?"

"Nothing's technically necessary, but it doesn't mean you shouldn't do it. Oh, smile a bit, Clara. I've got us back in the game."

"Well, maybe you should just take my turns from now on."

"Can't, that's very much against the rules."

"How do you even keep the rules of all the games in the universe memorized? I barely knew how to play two when I was a kid."

"Well, technically speaking I'm rather intellectually superior, but let's not go there now. It's your turn again."

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**[Author's Note: La la la, pointless chapter is pointless. Honestly, I just needed something to write for 'cards'. (Why I even put that into my prompt hat, the world may never know.) I'm probably going to put up another chapter later today to make up for this very short little thing. Review, bitte! :3]**


	5. Morning

**[Author's Note: Hi you guys! *Looks at prompt for today* Well, that's a nice coincidence for me, considering I actually wrote the majority of this at 5:00 a.m. Anyway, enjoy this chapter! It's kinda silly but was quite fun to write. :3]**

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Chapter 5:

**Morning** (_noun_)- Evil

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The Doctor looked at his watch for what felt like the thousandth time that night. The small numbered circle read 5:00 a.m. He grinned in delight and, abandoning his current task of flipping and unflipping switches on the console for no real reason, he took off bounding down one of the corridors, moving at a dead-run until he reached a particular door.

"Clara!" He shouted, knocking rapidly on the surface with a fist. "Clara Oswald, time to wake up!"

He stepped back and waited patiently for his companion for several seconds, but after getting not even a slight acknowledgment, he resumed his pounding. "Clara! Are you alright?"

There was suddenly a loud thump against the door from the other side, causing the Doctor to jump back in surprise. He stepped forward again cautiously, grabbing the door handle.

"Clara?" He called, pressing his ear against the door to see if he could hear anything from his companion. "Clara, I'm coming in."

He pushed down on the handle and slid the door open slowly, peering his head in. The door bumped against something, and he looked down to see a shoe laying on the floor in front of it. "Clara?" He called once again.

"What?!" Finally came the irritated reply.

The Doctor looked up across the room to where the girl was sitting up in her bed, blankets still wrapped around her body. Her hair hung half in front of her face. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously.

The Doctor grinned warily. "Good morning?" He tried.

"It's not morning!" She growled.

"Well, ah, technically, if I have my watch set right for your time, it's currently 5:05 a.m, which I believe does make it morning." He replied, glancing briefly at his watch.

"Nobody gets up at 5 in the morning!" Clara protested. "It's not even light out yet!"

"Oh, come on, Clara." The Doctor said. "You've had at least six hours of sleep by now. That's plently. Now get up and get dressed, and come down to the console room. I've thought of the great place to go today. You'll love it!"

"I'd _love_ to sleep for another hour and a half." Clara muttered, dropping back down into her bed and pulling the covers up to her face.

"Clara!" The Doctor protested. He stepped towards his companion's bed hesitantly. "You can't actually say you'd rather sleep than go explore the universe? Anything you could ever want to see, and you'd rather sleep in?"

He got an unintelligible noise in response.

The Doctor sighed and ran a hand through his hair, rocking back and forth on his heels a few times. He took a few more hesitant steps forward and reached out a hand, tapping lightly a few times on the blanket his companion was burrowed under. Getting no response, he prodded at her harder. The covers shifted and Clara popped back out, sitting up grudgingly and folding her arms over her chest.

"What?" She demanded grumpily.

"C'mon, you can't just lay there all day." The Doctor pleaded. He offered his hand to help her up. She ignored it.

"I'm not going to lay here all day. Just until it's actually morning." She argued, dropping back down onto her matress and pressing her head down into the pillow.

The Doctor sighed heavily and stepped back from her bed, standing there awkwardly for several moments stared at his motionless companion. He turned and slipped quietly across the room, taking a chair from a corner and carrying it back, setting it down a few feet form Clara's bedside and dropping down onto it. He rested his elbows on his knees and placed his chin on his hands, sitting there quietly as the time ticked along.

He stared at the ceiling or the floor most of the time, but every once in a while his eyes drifted over to the girl in front of him. Despite the fact that she was laying very still, he could tell by her uneven breathing that she was not asleep. And every few minutes he would see one of her eyes open a crack to peer at him before snapping shut quickly.

After less than twenty minutes she finally pulled back her covers and sat up in her bed with a huff of annoyance.

The Doctor smiled and stood up from his chair eagerly. "Ready to go?" He asked.

"Well, I can't sleep with you staring at me the whole time." She snapped. "Honestly, you wonder why I usually don't spend the night here." She muttered under her breath. She slid out of her bed and dropped lightly down onto the floor, wincing visibly as her barefeet touched against the cold metal floor. The Doctor watched her expectantly for a few moments, waiting for her to follow him out the door, and she finally cleared her throat.

"Doctor?" She began finally.

"Yes?" he responded.

"Do you think you could leave so I could, you know," She guestured to her current attire, a fleecy purple nightgown, "-get dressed?" She finished.

"Ah, of course. Right." The Doctor said swiftly, backing away quickly and bumping into the doorframe as he stumbled out of the room. "Come down when you're ready." He added before closing the door after him.

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When Clara made her way down the hallway to the console room ten minutes later, she was still not in the best mood. The air in the stark metal corridors felt frigid against her body, which was still used to the warmth of the blankets, and she felt exhausted, like she had only slept for an hour.

A strand of her hair drifted in front of her face, and she flicked it away in irritation, trying again to smooth it down against her head. She couldn't remember ever sleeping on a bed that messed up her hair to this magnitude (And she had a feeling there was a reason for that). She would probably need to try and take a shower later to fix it, although she couldn't do it now, because the irritatingly-chripy man down the hall would probably come by and start pounding on the bathroom door, too.

She walked up the steps to the console room, glancing around for the Doctor but not seeing him anywhere in the large circular chamber. She shouted his name a few times down the hallways, but got no response except an echo. Typical. She sighed and leaned against the console, resting her head back on the tube in the center and closing her eyes.

A moment later, she felt someone gently take her hands, wrapping her fingers securely around something hot. She opened her eyes quickly and found the Doctor's cheerful face leaning over her, lightly cupping her hands as he pressed a cup of tea into them.

"Hello." She said, curling her chilled fingers around the hot mug.

"Hello!" He replied perkily. He leaned back against the console next to her, throwing one arm around her shoulder absentmindedly as he began to talk a mile a minute about where they were going to go and what they would do that day. She leaned slightly into the warm embrace, and he looked down at her, squeezing her against him gently.

"Good morning." He said, grinning.

"Good morning." She replied, and found herself meaning it, just a bit.

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**[Author's Note: As a total morning person (I was up at 5 by choice, not force), I found it rather entertaining to poke some fun at non-morning people here. All the reactions here were pretty much taken from my personal experience of trying to wake people who do not wish to be woken, or from being woken too early by someone else and not being pleased about it. I hope you liked this, and expect another one soon. PLEASE review! :3]**


	6. Fire

**[Author's Note: Um, sorry for no update the past two days, guys. In my defense, I've had two huge math tests this week, and came home pretty much just wanting to fall down and die on the floor. But here we go, because I needed something to do while waiting the agonizing last two days until Saturday's episode (During which I will probably be wrapped in a blanket and rocking back and forth underneath my couch). *Looks at prompt and grins evilly* Oh, I do love fire. Enjoy my slightly pyromaniactic chapter! :3]**

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Chapter 6:

**Fire** (_noun_)- Blaze, heat, smoke

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The Doctor certainty wished the building hadn't burst into flames at all, but if he had to choose _when_ it had happened, he definitely wouldn't have picked the exact moment when he and Clara were on complete opposite ends of it. Now everything was a blur of smoke and orange flames and collapsing walls and shouts of the (thankfully few) people running for the exits.

The Doctor pushed past them, heading the exact opposite way, which gained him quite a few sanity-questioning looks from the ash-stained pedestrians. One young girl skidded to a halt next to him, panting, staring at him in confusion.

"Where are you going?" She cried. "You can't go back there! It's all on fire!" She grabbed a fistful of his coat and tried vainly to tug him in the direction of the doors.

"My friend's back that way, I'm going to get her." He explained, tugging his coat free and continuing on.

"That side went up first!" She shouted after him. "She probably already got out or-"

He didn't let her finish. "Well, I guess I'll just have to check that for myself." He said. "Now you'd better get out quick."

He heard the silence as she hesitated, then her footsteps moving away on the scorched floor.

The Doctor continued on through the quickly burning building. The place was, of course, made almost entirely of wood, and was being devoured by the hungry flames in record time, turning walls and support beams to ash, buckling and crumbling the structure bit by bit. In five minutes the whole place would collapse into fiery rubble.

He shouted her name as he moved along, trying vainly to see through the smoke, which had become thick enough to make it nearly impossible to see and rather hard to breathe. Every once in a while he thought he heard footsteps or saw something move, but it was always just cinders clattering to the ground, or a shadow flicking across the floor.

After two minutes he had made it to the opposite end of the building, or what was left of it. Huge piles of what used to be parts of the walls and ceiling lay, enveloped in flames, on the ground. It was almost unbearably hot, and the Doctor slipped off his overcoat and tied it by the sleeves around his waist. His eyes and throat burned from the thick black smoke.

He dropped to his knees in an attempt to avoid the worst of the smoke and also to peer around, behind corners and under boards, for any sign of his companion.

"Clara!" He shouted, his voice breaking slightly from the smoke. "Clara!"

No answer, or at least none that could be heard from the roar of the flames and the snap and hiss of burning wood. A sharp pain squeezed his chest and sent a cold rush through his veins despite the overbearing heat. He called again, louder, raising his voice so that it echoed on the scorched walls., still creeping slowly forward on hands and knees, silently pleading her to answer him.

He would have completely missed it had a small burning ember not broken loose from a blaze at that exact moment and landed next to a small overhang caused by two boards. The flickering coat caught the glint of something bright and metallic and very out of place in this burning wooden mess.

The Doctor dove forward, luckily just in time for a flaming two-by-four to land exactly where he had just been, and scooped up the glittering object in his hand. In was in fact metal, and was hot enough to nearly make him drop it, but instead he gritted his teeth and held it up for inspection.

It was a bracelet. _Clara's_ bracelet, one she had bought at a marketplace during one of their adventures a few days ago. Make of small steel charms linked together. The clasp was broken, which accounted for it laying on the floor. And it was here, then-

"Clara!" The Doctor shouted, ducking forward and laying down on his stomach to peer underneath the overhanging boards into the small cavern beneath. He swiped his hands wildly to clear the smoke a bit, squinting as hard as he could to make out any shape in the haze.

And there she was, his lovely young companion, slumped motionless in a half-curled position, her eyes closed. Panic overtook him for a moment, but he saw her eyelids twitch, and she shifted slightly, letting out a raspy breath.

"Clara!" He cried happily. She stirred again, blinked, and raised her head weakly, staring at him through half-closed eyes. He reached out a hand to her, and she stared blearily at it for a few seconds before struggling to move forward to take it. She manged one slightly stagger forward before she stumbled and hit the ground, struggling for breath.

He leaned forward and caught his hands under her arms, bracing all his weight backwards to slowly drag her out of the little pocket of space, heavily thankful that he'd taken a companion this time that was small enough to easily maneuver. He slid her out completely just as the boards gave way, and her little shelter disappeared into a smoldering wreckage.

The sound roused Clara a bit, and she blinked her eyes blearily, glancing around the mass of fire and smoke. The Doctor pulled her closer to him, and she pressed her face against his chest in a feeble attempt to escape the smoke.

"C'mon Clara, we need to go now." The Doctor whispered urgently into her ear. She stirred and groaned, leaning backwards and struggling into a sitting position. Smoke-induced tears streamed down her face, instantly evaporating in the heat. He took her ash-stained hand and tried to pull her to her feet.

She managed a wobbly stance, panting heavily and starting to cough as her face was now where the smoke was even thicker. Keeping a tight hold on her hand, he began to move a quick pace through the blaze, slightly confused as he realized his original path was now mostly on fire.

"Slight detour." He shouted over the flames to his bleary companion. "Just stay with me. Run leaning down to stay out of the smoke!" With that he took off in a different direction, moving at a half-run, feeling Clara stumble along behind him and struggle to retain her hold on him.

He moved in an awkward zigzag, this way and that way through any opening, trying to remember which was the doors were located. He was pretty sure he had figured it out and was fairly certain the doors were only a few steps away, though he couldn't be sure through the smoke, so he tugged on Clara's hand and began to march across the burning floor.

Clara was becoming less led and more dragged by the Doctor at this point. She moved staggering and tripping, at one point falling down on her knees and coughing so hard she looked like she would throw up. He hauled her back to her feet and pulled her along, shouting encouragements This continued on and on through the flames and smoke until they suddenly felt wind blowing against them, chasing off some of the stifling heat. They were outside.

Clara staggered and almost lost her balance but the Doctor caught her arms and pulled her a few more yards until they were out of the cloud of smoke pouring from the building's entrance. Then he let go, and she dropped down onto the ground, coughing heavily and rubbing smoke tears out of her eyes.

He dropped down next to her and looped an arm around her shoulders, rubbing her back slightly. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked. She took a shaky, rough breath and nodded before starting to cough again.

A medium-sized group of onlookers were gathered near where they crouched on the grass, watching the fire with huge eyes. Some had actually been in the building, some had just been passing by. The one young girl who had tried to pull the Doctor out earlier moved forward, timidly handing a bottle of lukewarm water to him.

He gave her a huge smile, and she grinned hesitantly in return before melting back into the crowd. The Doctor popped open the bottle and splashed some of the water against his ashy face. The water wasn't cold, but felt plenty cool after the heat of the flames. He shook it from his face and handed the rest to Clara, who took a few small sips before setting it down and slumping down against the Doctor's lap in complete exhaustion.

After a minute or two later, the building shuddered heavily, and then with a loud cracking and splintering and creaking, the last of the structure collapsed into the burning heap. The onlookers watched in fascination. Some kid whistled.

And a minute or two later, when the thick of the crowd began to disperse, the Doctor picked up Clara, who was at this point unconscious from exhaustion, and walked back to the TARDIS, which was waiting not far off.

~.~.~.~.~

Clara opened her eyes blearily, feeling them sting sharply as she blinked. She rubbed them and sat up, feeling the stinging sensation spread across her arms and legs. "Ow." She winced, lifting one arm and finding it swathed in bandages.

"Oh, hello!"

Clara jumped at the loud, happy voice that came from not far off. She whipped around to see the Doctor sitting in a backwards-facing chair a few feet away from her bed. "Do you make a habit of watching me in my sleep?" She snapped, and her voice sounded rough and scratched.

"Not often. Just wanted to make sure you were okay." The Doctor replied. He stood up and walked over to her bedside, sticking his hands into his pockets and smiling at her. "Do you feel alright?"

"No." She said bluntly, wincing in pain as she bent her elbow. "What happened?"

"Yesterday. Building. Fire. Flames, smoke, whoosh." He said, waving his arms for emphasis on the last bit.

"Oh." She said slowly, remembering the events like a dream suddenly coming back. "Oh, right." A slight pause. "Thanks for coming to get me."

"I wouldn't ever leave you." He said, and his voice dropped a bit, lost it's humorous edge, just for a moment.

"What started the fire, anyhow?" She asked, running her fingers through her hair and watching as bits of soot fell out onto her bed sheets.

"Don't know. I'll find out eventually. Maybe we could go back there?"

"Not anytime soon, please." She sighed, running her fingers across the numerous bandages covering her burns.

"Okay." The Doctor agreed, sitting down on the side of her bed and kicking his feet together idly. He turned to her after a moment. "Want to go to the beach today?" He asked.

"Whatever you say." Clara said, dropping back down onto her bed with a sigh. "Just let me sleep for another hour, maybe?"

And this time, he did.

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**[Author's Note: Wellll, that was way more fun to write than it should have been. I LOVE writing about fires. Dunno why, just always have. Also love hurt/comfort, so this chapter was right up my alley. 'Nother chap tomorrow, hm? On another note: C'mon, guys. I see the views for this thing. Would it kill you to drop me a review every once in a while? It really really does mean quite alot. Please? :3]**


	7. Prison

**[Author's Note: Well, I'm currently dying of anticipation for tomorrow's episode, and in order to resist the BURNING temptation to look up clips and teasers online, I've decided to write my fingers off instead. I am _very_ pleased with this prompt. Honestly, this chapter was mostly for my own pleasure, because I feel like I am betraying my favorite character by writing Clara/11 stuff. You'll figure it out. :3]**

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Chapter 7:

**Prison** (_noun_)- a building for the confinement of persons held while awaiting trial, persons sentenced after conviction, etc.

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"Doctor, why are we here?" Clara asked, her voice bouncing eerily off the concrete walls of the empty corridor. The Doctor walked ahead of her, a bounce in his step, the ends of his coat swishing behind him. "This place is creepy."

"Oh, it's not that bad." The Doctor said, his cheerful voice ricocheting off the walls and down the hallway. He turned back to look at her. "What are you doing way back there? Come along!"

Clara sighed and scampered after him, the sounds of her feet on the floor echoing loudly around them. She was honestly surprised no one had come after them yet, given the noise they were making, but the Doctor seemed blissfully unconcerned, so she just assumed he had landed on a day when not many people were there.

Clara yelped as something cold tapped against the back of her neck. She whirled around, heart pounding, but found nothing except the shadowy hall behind her. She slapped a hand to the back of her neck and felt her fingers brush against something wet. She looked up in time to see another drop of water fall from a pipe hooked to the ceiling.

Frowning deeply, she yanked the hood of her jacket up over her head and clipped along after the Doctor. They came upon where the hallway split, and he walked down the left way without blinking, as if he had come this way a thousand times before.

At this point Clara was just becoming irritated. "Doctor, why are we here?" She asked for what felt like the tenth time since they arrived.

The Doctor turned back to give her a small smile. "We're visiting a good friend of mine."

She noticed that was a well-used explanation of his. The Doctor seemed to have alot of 'good friends'. Half of them never actually turned out to be friends. Less turned out to actually be 'good'. "Wait a second." She said. "You have a friend in prison?"

"One or two." He replied, grinning bigger and bigger as they moved along through the halls, so Clara assumed they must be getting close to this 'friend'.

"Who are they?" Clara asked. "Are they...you know, nice?"

"Well, actually, they're-" He paused, looking confused. "Um...well... let's see..." He scratched the back of his neck, and, finally giving up on trying to find an appropriate adjective, simply whirled back around and continued along. "You'll find out when we meet them!"

"Is he-slash-she friendly?" Clara asked, following him after a moment of hesitation.

"She, by the way." The Doctor clarified. "And yes, I'm sure you'll get along just fine-" He stopped for a moment, cupping a hand around his face as he thought. "Ah, well, I'm assuming you'll get along, anyway. I don't see why you wouldn't. Well, actually, I can think of quite a few reasons..." He trailed off, eyebrows scrunched up in thought. He flicked his gaze back to Clara and grinned sheepishly. "Nah, I'm sure you'll be fine." He gave her a thumbs-up and trotted on.

Clara felt the twinge of urge to flee that she had had when they first appeared in a prison to begin with. But the Doctor continued on, so Clara, after a moment of reluctant hesitation, stepped along after him so as not to be left along in the dark hallway.

"Is this friend, _special_ by any chance?" Clara asked as they walked along.

She could see the creases on the Doctor's face as he smiled. "Very." He responded simply. "Now come along, Clara."

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**[Author's Note: Ahhhh, I really needed to write that. A nice little tribute chapter, I think. Don't worry, don't worry, I'll get back on track next chapter. This was more of a chapter for my own pleasure, but I hope one or two of you enjoys it. Anyway, it's about 11:00 at night where I live, and I'm half asleep at my keyboard, so sorry for any spelling/grammar errors. Imma go to bed now, and you can expect another chapter tomorrow while I wait in agony for 8:00. Please review! :3]**


	8. Scar

**[Author's Note: Can I just start by saying you guys rock? I didn't think anyone was going to like yesterday's chapter at all. I was happily wrong! Anyway, here's your chapter of the day. I figured I should get it up before I disappear from the internet at about 3:00 to avoid accidently reading anything about tonight's episode. I let my little bro pick the prompt again, so enjoy! :3]**

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**Scar** (_noun_)- A lasting mark left by a wound or injury

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The Doctor pushed Clara in through the TARDIS doors, stepping in after her and closing the door. After a moment, he peered his head back out. "Goodbye, everyone! It's been great seeing you all, and-" A stone thunked against the door, missing the Doctor's face by a few inches. "Okay, okay! We're going." He slammed the door again.

Clara was leaning against one of the railings, watching silently as the Doctor pushed buttons and flipped levers to take them off. "Well," She said after a few moments. "That was interesting."

"Yes." The Doctor replied without looking back at her. "Not exacting the image I put in your head this morning, sorry."

"Yeah, you forgot to mention the hour and a half of running through the jungle while being shot at." Clara said.

"Well, we both came out okay, so-" The Doctor turned as he spoke, and froze, mouth half open, as he looked at Clara.

"What?" Clara asked, staring at him in confusion.

"Are you alright?" He asked, raising one hand and touching the left side of his face slightly.

Clara placed her hand against her own cheek and felt the cut running several inches down it. "What, this? I told you when I got it, it's fine. It stopped bleeding an hour ago, anyway." She looked down at her hand, seeing the tiny dots of blood on her fingertips. _Mostly, anyway__._

She looked up and jumped as she realized the Doctor was now standing about two feet away from her. He raised a hand and lightly touched his fingers against the wound on her cheek. She winced and tried to pull away, only succeeding to press herself further against the railing. "Ouch, leave it along. I said it's fine."

"It's going to leave a scar." The Doctor stated.

"I don't think it's that deep." Clara shrugged, pushing his hand away.

"It is." The Doctor replied.

Clara touched the cut self-consciously and frowned. "I don't care." She said flippantly after a second. She stood on her tiptoes and patted the Doctor on the head. "I'm going to bed, okay? Try to think of a less deadly place between now and next morning."

The Doctor watched as she scampered away down the corridor to her bedroom. His lovely Clara, who would now have an everlasting slash mark down the side of her face because of his stupid idea. Which she did not deserve, not at all. Even if she said she didn't care, or that it didn't matter.

So that night he stood quietly over her bed as she slept, and touched two fingers lightly to her cheek, watching as he removed them that there was nothing there except for the soft smoothness of her skin, where he gently dropped a kiss before leaving.

~.~.~.~.~

**[Author's Note: I thought you guys deserved something a little sweeter than what I normally do, especially considering it looks like there's going to be quite a bit of angst tonight on the TV. Enjoy and please review! :3]**


	9. Sleep

**[Author's Note: Hello, my lovely devotees. Blah, I know, late chapter by about a week. In my defense, I sort of lost motivation to write this after watching the AMAZING finale, which caused me to once again become a hard-core 11/River shipper, and I was admittedly a little reluctant to start writing 11/Clara stuff again. But I promised myself I wouldn't give up on this until I've done _at least_ a dozen chapters, and I'll admit, looking at my prompt hat did give me a little burst of inspiration, so let's go! :3 This chapter is cute and fluffy for all you guys who like that kind of stuff.]**

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**Sleep** (_verb_)- To rest, cease being awake, etc.

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Waking up, the first thing that seemed strange to the Doctor was that he was waking up at all. He couldn't remember falling asleep any time recently, and if he had, he wasn't sure why he would have fallen asleep on something as hard as whatever he was laying on. The second thing was the huge burst of dizzying pain that shot through his head when he opened his eyes. He winced, closed them again, and then slowly peered out again, watching as the spinning scene slowly settled into place.

He was laying on the ground in a dark alley that, now that he thought about it, he did remember running down recently. He didn't remember deciding to take a nap in it, however. He pressed his hands against the floor to try and stand up, and felt a thin layer of powder lying around. He dabbed his fingertip in it, studied it curiously, then tasted it cautiously, cringing at the sickly-sweet taste.

"Sleeping powder." He muttered, brushing it off his hand. Irritation flowed through him. The amount lying around him was enough to keep him out for at least four hours. God knows what had happened around here while he and Clara were unconscious.

_Clara._ He thought, remembering sharply about his companion. He tried to push himself to his feet to go and find the girl, quickly, and became suddenly aware of the heavy weight resting on his chest, which he hadn't noticed until now.

He took in a slow breath and looked down. Of course it was Clara, stretched out next to him so that half her body rested on his, her head pressed against his chest. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing shallowly. Dead asleep.

The Doctor stared at her dumbfounded for a few moments, completely unsure of what to do. Clara must have breathed in more powder than him, or perhaps it just had a stronger effect on humans, because she was still sleeping placidly with no signs of waking up any time soon.

She looked so peaceful: her eyelids fluttered gently closed, one hand tucked against her cheek, her lips parted just slightly for breath, and her entire facade smooth and delicate seeming, like a sleeping child. And even though the Doctor almost felt a touch of regret in waking her from her dreams back to hectic reality, there was a rather life-or-death situation going on nearby that needed their immediate attention.

He raised the one arm that wasn't pinned down by his unconscious companion and carefully tapped her head a few times (her hair was warm from being in the sun for so long and he almost had to tell himself not to leave his hand resting on it too long). "Clara." He hissed. No response from her sleeping form. "Clara!" He poked her shoulder this time.

He again got not even a sigh for a response. He huffed in annoyance and finally just grabbed her by the arm, shaking her back and forth roughly. "Clara! Sorry to wake you up but I very much need you awake and aware right now!"

He felt her stir slightly, and he sighed in relief, but instead of blinking her eyes open, she merely shifted over in her sleep, so that her face was now barely five inches from his, and her hand rested lightly against his collarbone. She sighed softly, and he could feel her hot breath against his neck.

The Doctor groaned and leaned back so that his head bumped back against the concrete ground. "No chance you'll wake up now?" He said to himself meekly, his voice slightly higher than usual. As expected, he got no response. It was rather obvious that she wouldn't wake up until the sleeping powder wore off; forcing her awake probably wasn't possible or safe. So he just dug his fingers into the ground and tried hard to ignore his companion's soft breathing on his skin.

He was used to being awake while others slept, but that usually took place in the TARDIS, where he literally had an endless amount of things to do. At the moment he could barely move three inches in each direction, and he couldn't even talk or sing to himself without fear of someone hearing and blasting them with powder again, which would be a bit counterproductive. He almost wished he could fall asleep again, but now that he had already slept for who knows how long, he felt more energetic than when he had been knocked out.

He let his eyes wander around, looking at the slowly darkening sky, the stone walls around him, the cracks on the concrete ground which spindly weeds grew from. Somehow, everytime his eyes did a circle around the setting, they always landed on Clara at some point of another. He looked away quickly every time, remembering in the back of his mind her irritation the one other time he had watched her sleep. But each time his eyes lingered on her a little longer, and after fifteen minutes he gave up and let his eyes settle on her.

People looked so different in sleep. The bright-eyed, eager, feisty young girl he was used to in the day now seemed almost akin to a sleeping kitten now: seeming softer, more delicate, curled around herself and tucked against him happily. Somewhere in the back of his mind he imagined she would be quite displeased if she knew he was observing these things about her, but he contented himself with the fact that she never _would_ find out._  
_

She mumbled slightly and her face shifted, her lips tightening into a frown and her eyebrows scrunching together as whatever she was dreaming about turned sour. Almost without realizing it, his hand moved out an his thumb stroked over her forehead lightly. He started as he realized what he was doing and almost pulled away, but her face was relaxing again, and she showed no signs of waking up, so he continued the motion quietly. He decided he rather liked comforting her like this; he wished she would let him more often.

In was an hour, approximately, according to the clock in his mind, when she stirred slightly, coughed, and opened her eyes blearily. She made a noise of exhaustion in her throat and blinked rapidly a few times before her chocolate-brown eyes gained a look of focus.

She yelped slightly as her eyes met the Doctor's, which were merely six inches away from each other. She moved backward quickly, her arm accidentally ramming into his stomach. He groaned in pain and rolled over, knocking her unceremoniously to the ground. He propped himself up on the palms of his hands, taking in a deep breath now that the weight was gone from his chest.

"Good morning." He smiled at Clara, looking dazed on the powder-coated floor.

"Good morning." She muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Wha' happened?"

"Ah, not quite sure. I just woke up." The Doctor said hastily. He ran his hand across the ground and pretend to examine the powder _very_ closely. "Oh well, look at that. Sleeping powder. Come on now, better be off." He sprang to his feet, grabbed his confused companion's hand and took off running down the street.

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**[Author's Note: Arrgh, why did I have fun writing this? *Repeats "I don't ship them" over and over again.* Well, I hope you guys liked this. Next chapter tomorrow or maybe the next day. Sorry for any errors, I didn't have time to spell-check this. Pretty please with a cherry on top review! :3]**


	10. Disguise

**[Author's Note: Ello Ello Ello! Good morning, my friends. Sorry for the late chapter, but apparently there's this thing called 'attitude' that I'm not allowed to have in the presence of my legal guardians unless I wish to have my computer privileges revoked. But I'm back now, so here you go! I like this prompt; I wanted to write something purely fun friendship because I think I've been too fluffy these past few chapters. I hope you like it!]**

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Chapter 10:

**Disguise** (_noun)_- to change the appearance or guise of oneself so as to conceal identity or mislead, as by means of deception

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"Doctor, stop, this is a terrible idea." Clara protested as the Doctor began to unbutton his purple overcoat.

"Nonsense, this will work fine." The Doctor replied, peeling off the jacket and dropping it in a heap in front of Clara.

"You don't know that!" Clara yelped.

"Shh, voice down!" The Doctor said sharply, clamping a hand over her mouth. Clara made a mumbling sound of protest and tried to bite at his hand until he moved it off. The two of them ducked farther back behind the pile of boxes they were crouched behind. The Doctor peered out cautiously, watching as a patrol of people approached from the distance, knocking everything in their path over as they searched for them.

"No time now to think of a different plan." The Doctor stated, beginning to unbutton his vest. "You'll be fine, Clara, I promise."

"How do you know?!" Clara protested. She looked nervously out at the approaching crowd. "What if they have guns? Are you trying to get me killed?"

"Don't, worry, they're unarmed." The Doctor assured, struggling his vest off his shoulders. "I just need a diversion for a few seconds. Just enough to get out of here, so I can go take care of everything." He pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his pants pocket and tossed it in the air, catching it deftly. "Then you can come meet up with me later."

Clara sighed, looking displeased, but stopped protesting. The Doctor reached up to start unbuttoning his shirt and the Clara grabbed his hand. "Whoa, leave some of your clothes on." She said. "You'll call more attention to yourself running down the street naked."

The Doctor chuckled. "Right, right." He picked up his vest and handed it to her, reaching up to undo his bowtie while Clara slipped on the too-large garment.

"What happens when they catch me?" Clara asked, buttoning up the vest while the Doctor carefully tied the cloth of his bowtie around her neck.

"Nothing really. Once they realize who you are they'll probably just leave you alone. They don't care much about you, just me really." The Doctor answered.

"Never thought I'd be so happy to have people not care about me." Clara replied, causing the Doctor to grin. He picked up his coat off the ground and slipped it neatly onto her shoulders. She slid her arms through the sleeves, which were too long for her, and began to button it.

"This is never going to work." Clara muttered, standing up and brushing the dirt off the clothes.

"What are you talking about, you look just like me!" The Doctor beamed, looking Clara up-and-down. The ends of his coat she was wearing nearly brushed against the ground, and the bowtie was tied a bit too loosely around her neck, but he didn't think those were major faults.

"Hold on." He said, frowning. "Your hair might give it away." He reached under her arm into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out an odd-looking hat. He scooped up and handful of her long hair and crammed it under the hat, pushing it down onto her head. "There you go." He smiled.

Clara sighed, adjusting the hat on her head and glaring at him. The Doctor gave her a thumbs-up. Sliding forward quietly, she peered cautiously out from the boxes.

"Here goes nothing." He muttered, flashing the Doctor a brief nervous smile before darting out of the hiding place and sprinting down the street, the ends of the coat billowing out wildly behind her as she ran. There was a sudden shout of recognition from one of the people and the patrol took off after her.

The Doctor laughed, twirled the sonic screwdriver in his hand and scampered down the opposite way.

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**[Author's Note: Haha, that was fun to write. The mental image of Clara in the Doctor's clothes I find pretty amusing. Next chapter tomorrow or the next day. Review, s'il vous plaît! :3]**


	11. Bored

**[Author's Note: Hello my pretties! School is _finally_ out for me, so this will probably get updated more often. BTW, count yourselves lucky, guys. You were so close to getting a chapter so angsty is would kill you, but I got carried away writing it, so it became it's own story (Called 'Blind'. Please look it up if you have a free moment). Anyway, this chapter was written because I was reading the Doctor Who book _Shroud of Sorrow_ (Excellent book), and I was laughing so hard at the beginning of the book** where** the Doctor and Cara were pulling a ship out of floodwaters, which were caused by Clara doing something stupid. So obviously, I needed to write a prequel for that book.]**

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Chapter 11:

**Bored** (_adjective_)- A state of mind which causes you to do instantly regrettable things.

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"Ta-da!" the Doctor shouted as he threw open the doors of the TARDIS. Instantly a hot, dry breeze swept over him, blowing his hair back and billowing out the ends of his coat. "Oh, we're going to have alot of fun here!" He clapped his hands and rubbed them together in anticipation.

Clara gave the barren landscape of cracked, hard-baked earth a skeptical glance. "Are we now?" She asked.

"Of course!" The Doctor replied, stepping out onto the planet and walking a few feet around. "We're just waiting until some friends get here."

"Where are we?" Clara asked, stepping lightly out onto the dry ground.

"Venofax." The Doctor responded. "On the Ocean Peninsula to be exact."

"Yep, lots of ocean here." Clara muttered under her breath, scanning the area, that seemed to stretch on flat forever. Louder, she added, "So when are these friends of yours coming?"

"Well, they should be arriving about-" The deafening roar of an engine sounded overhead, echoing across the entire plain. "-now!" he finished chirpily. He raced over to Clara and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her back through the TARDIS doors. "Out of the way!"

With a loud blast of mechanical whirring and growling a small metal spaceship, no bigger than a large car, ascended down onto the hard, sun-baked planet surface, sending clouds of dust and bits of rocks flying. It landed with a loud crashing sound, and the engines slowly hummed to a halt.

"Is that them?" Clara asked, peered around the Doctor, who was blocking most of the doorway.

"I believe so." The Doctor replied, watching as a metal door on the ship slid open and three people hopped out onto the planet, looking around curiously.

"Can you go introduce us?" Clara asked.

"Not until I know them." The Doctor answered, stepping out through the TARDIS doors.

"I thought you said they were your friends?" Clara questioned, confused.

"They will be in a few minutes!" the Doctor smiled. He raised one arm in the air and waved in the direction of the crew. "Hello!"

One of the crew members, a man, turned in their direction. He waved back, then turned to one of the other people, tapping them on the shoulder and pointing over to the TARDIS.

The Doctor motioned for Clara to follow and jogged over to them, smiling happily. "Hello there!" He said once they were in proper hearing distance. "How are you three doing?"

The crew, two women and a man, exchanged puzzled glances. "Fine," One of the women replied haltingly.

"Glad to hear." The Doctor grinned. He pointed at himself, then at Clara. "I'm the Doctor, and this is Clara. Pleased to meet you!"

After a slight hesitation, the person who appeared to be in charge (going by the golden pin on her vest that said 'captain') stepped forward. She was the older woman of the two, with dark blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. "I didn't know anyone else was supposed to come." She said slowly, eyeing the two skeptically.

"Are you part of our expedition?" Asked the other woman, a younger one with short brown hair and freckles.

"Yes, of course." The Doctor agreed, bobbing his head up and down. "You're, I mean we're, looking for signs of why the native population here disappeared, yeah?"

The woman nodded slowly. "Alright, I suppose we could use as many extra hands as we can get."

"Could we get your names?" Clara piped up.

The woman raised an eyebrow, but complied, "I'm Professor Penny Holroyde, the captain here," She said the last part rather proudly. She turned and gestured to the man of the group, a sturdy-looking guy with stringy blonde hair. "That's Dan, my co-pilot." She pointed at the young woman next, "And that is Callie. This is only her second expedition." The girl waved shyly at them.

"Right then! Nice to meet you all!" The Doctor grabbed all their hands one by one and shook them excitedly. He stepped back and clapped in anticipation. "Should we get started then?"

_~.~.~.~.~.~.~_

_Two hours later..._

Clara was displeased.

As she dug her small shovel once again into the ground, she made a mental note to have another talk with the Doctor about what the word 'fun' meant. Because whatever this was, it wasn't fun.

Sure, joining in on an archaeology dig _sounded_ great. Especially the way the Doctor had babbled on about it in the TARDIS ("It'll be great, Clara! Who doesn't love finding out things no one else knows? Granted, I suppose we could always just pop back a few hundred years and find out ourselves, but what's wrong with every once in a while slowing down and learning things the normal way?"). Clara had actually been rather excited by the time they had landed.

But the truth was, all archaeology involved was kneeling on the hard ground for hours, pounding away at the unyielding dirt with a flimsy metal shovel over and over again. It had taken them half and hour to just break through the crust to the soft earth underneath, and the next hour and a half were spent scooping out shovelfuls of the sandy tan-colored dirt, most of which seemed to end up all over her hair and clothes.

An hour and a half of just digging and throwing soil. And they had found absolutely nothing, save for some special bit of mineral or another that the archaeologists seemed to think was important, but she wouldn't have even been able to tell apart from any other scrap of dirt.

Not to mention it was _hot_. Apparently, when they had arrived it was early in the morning, so the sun hadn't had a chance to warm the place yet. But now that it was later, and the sun was now almost completely overhead, it felt like the very sand around them was boiling away. Clara's throat was as rough as sandpaper, and she figured she was probably going to wake up the next day too sunburned to move.

The Doctor, who had currently dug himself waist-deep into a hole, seemed to be enjoying himself. He was whistling a tune she didn't know as he gouged at the dirt with the tools, grinning manically all the while. He chatted pleasantly with the crew as they worked, talking happily about subjects that made Clara's head hurt just listening to.

At this point she had pretty much just had enough.

She tried talking to the Doctor about it, but he basically just waved her off with some absentminded answer, like, "It's not so bad, Clara. Hard work is good for you!" Or, "Calm down, a little sun never hurt anyone." Or, "I'm sure alien dirt comes out in the wash."

She figured she could always just go back and wait in the TARDIS without anyone minding much, but she knew the Doctor would just stay out having fun for God knows how long, leaving her alone in the TARDIS for hours, which was something she still wasn't quite comfortable with (Fair enough, given her _lovely_ history with the Doctor's beloved ship).

Giving a sharp huff of annoyance, Clara dropped her shovel down into her hole and stood up, trying to brush the thick layer of dirt from her jeans, only succeeding in smudging it into mud with the sweat from her hands. "Do we have anything to drink?" She asked loudly, to the attention of nobody. She sighed and began to walk off. "Alright, I'll find something myself."

She made her way over to the haphazardly set up equipment, which had been set up a way off from where they were digging. Among it was a large control panel, covered in buttons and levers. It all seemed a bit superfluous for a little archaeology dig. Clara skimmed her fingers over the switches and bits of machinery curiously, looking for anything that might be related to a water dispenser.

Her hand stopped over a large green button marked with a picture of a drop of water. She turned back to where the crew and the Doctor were still digging. "Is it okay if I push this?" She shouted. No response. "Of course." Clara sighed. After a moment of unsure hesitation, she clicked the button. It flashed brightly, blinked a few times, then went still. She waited patiently for a few seconds, but nothing changed.

"Hmm." She muttered, puzzled. She tapped it again, to no affect. Rolling her eyes in exasperation, she began to walk back to the dig site when there was a loud, booming crash that echoed across the land, shaking the ground like some kind of earthquake. Clara stopped walking and whirled around, looking for the cause of the noise.

At first nothing looked different, but then she could make out, at the very edge of the horizon, a dark shape building up, growing higher and closer by the second. A huge, rushing torrent of water.

"Clara, what did you do?" She heard the Doctor shout from behind her.

She turned to face him, eyes huge. "I don't know! I just-" She trailed off, not really sure what she had done.

The other three people were already throwing down their tools and scrambling for their ship, shouting orders frantically. Clara turned to look over her shoulder and squeaked in surprise at how close the massive wave of water now was. A small tide had already overtaken the larger torrent and was rushing out around her ankles.

She felt hands on her arms as the Doctor hauled her backwards, shouting at her to run. She snapped to her senses and turned back, scrambling after him for the TARDIS. A waist-high rush of water slapped against them, bowling Clara and the Doctor, whose arm she was clinging to, to the ground.

The Doctor staggered to his feet and grabbed a wet, sputtering Clara out from under the water, dragging her a short distance before he was able to fling her and himself, along with several bucketfuls of pale green, strangely bubbly water, in through the TARDIS doors. He slammed them shut with a loud crash and fell back onto the floor, panting heavily, sopping wet.

Clara staggered to her feet next to him, coughing and rubbing mud and water out of her eyes. She grabbed a handful of her hair and tried to squeeze some of the wetness out, frowning as she watched what appeared to be soap bubbles spill out onto the floor. "What's wrong with this water? Why is it full of soap suds?" She asked. She raided her hand to her face and sniffed the moisture on her fingers. "And why does it smell like avocado?"

"That's what the ocean here is like!" The Doctor answered, scrambling himself up off the soaking floor. He shook his head like a dog, splattering water and mud everywhere. He brushed himself off ineffectively and stomped over to the console, his shoes squishing wetly with each step.

"The ocean?" Clara questioned. "We weren't anywhere near an ocean! How did it end up trying to drown us?"

"Maybe because someone pushed the button that opened the floodgates!" The Doctor snapped as he flicked switches and pushed buttons to take the TARDIS off.

Clara flushed and was about to open her mouth to defend herself when a loud burst of crackling came from somewhere on the console. The Doctor lunged forward, digging through a pile of metal gadgets and coming up with a small hand radio. He pressed a button the side and held it to his mouth, "Hello?"

More static sounds, then a crackly voice, "Hello, Doctor? It's Captain Penny."

"Good to hear you, captain!" The Doctor yelled enthusiastically. "Sorry about the ocean thing. Where are you now?"

A pause, then, "Under the water."

The Doctor frowned. "Oh. Well, that's not exactly preferable, now is it?"

"No. And if it's not too much of a problem, do you think you could try and find a way to tow us out?"

"Sure, won't be too much a problem. I've got a good, strong ship here." The Doctor replied. He shot a quick glare in Clara's direction. "Especially considering we sort of caused the problem."

Clara huffed and looked away, focusing on trying to wring the water and mud from her hair.

"Thank you." Penny replied, relief evident in her voice. The Doctor clicked off the radio and rubbed his hands together in anticipation, beginning to flip switches and pull levers to turn them back around.

"Well, don't just stand there." He said to Clara. "Third door down the left hall. Get a big chain."

_~.~.~.~.~.~.~_

**[Author's Note: ...And, if you want to find out what happens next, go read the first chapter of _Shroud of Sorrow _(If you don't own the book, you can probably find Chapter 1 online). Hope you liked it! Expect the next chapter either tomorrow or the next day. Pretty pretty please review! :3]**


	12. Cat

**[Author's Note: How is everyone doing? Good? Good. Here's your chapter! This isn't originally how I planned this chapter to go, but I like this idea alot better. This is one of those cute, fluffy, pointless chapters. Enjoy!]**

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Chapter 12:

**Cat** (_noun_)- A small, furry mammal that you are required to love

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Clara sighed, spinning in circles on her chair and watching the console room whirl around her in a blur. She stopped herself with her foot and checked her watch for what felt like the thousandth time.

_2 hours._ It had been two hours since the Doctor had blundered out the TARDIS doors with an armload of equipment, rambling frantically at 90 miles an hour. From what she could gather, he had run off to deal with some, "immediate and extremely pressing matters," which were "far too dangerous, absolutely out of the question," for her to come. He had then very loudly ordered her to stay and tumbled out the door so fast he almost shut it on himself.

She hadn't expected him to be this long, though, and she was caught between being annoyed at him and worried for his safety. She glanced at the door, expecting at any moment to see the Doctor come barreling in, but no such luck. She drummed her fingers against the TARDIS railing absentmindedly and began to spin on her chair again.

She almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of scratching at the door. She scrambled off the chair and stood frozen, listening carefully. She heard nothing but silence and began to think perhaps she had just imagined it when it began again. _Skritch-Scratch-Skritch-Scratch_, like claws against the wooden door.

Clara grabbed a bit of loose metal off the console and, gripping it like a weapon in one hand, began to slide forward quietly towards the door. The scratching continued, getting more and more frantic. Taking a deep breath and raising the bit of scrap metal over her head like a club, Clara flung the door open.

A gust of wind whirled violently in through the open door, pelting her with an onslaught of raindrops. Shaking her head, she cupped a hand around her eyes and peered out into the downpour.

She could see nothing but a rain-soaked street outside. Completely empty. Frowning, she peeked her head out, looking left and right, but still seeing nobody. With a small, "Hmm," of confusion, she pulled her head back in and was reaching to close the door when it finally occurred to her to look down.

"Oh!" She gasped as she glanced down at the wet street. Instantly the arm holding her make-shift weapon relaxed, and she set it down next to her before stooping down to get a better look at the culprit of the scratching noise.

It was a cat (A kitten, more like). Jet-black with white on it's chest and belly, and a small star on it's forehead. It peered glittering green eyes up at her and meowed piteously. Soaked to the bone by rain.

"How did you get out here?" She asked, reaching out a hand and stroking the top of it's head. It leaned into the touch, eyes closed in delight. "Poor baby."

In the back of her mind, Clara figured the Doctor would have a panic attack when he came back if he found out she'd brought a cat into his beloved TARDIS, but that didn't mean she was going to leave the tiny creature out in the rain. Cupping her hands under it's soaking body, she scooped it up off the street and in through the doorway, closing the door after to shut out the cold rain.

The cat squinted it's eyes at the sudden light of the console room, tilting it's head around as it examined the place. Clara gently held the critter to her chest, stroking it's dripping fur. Ir purred in contentment and butted its head against her neck.

"Alright, little guy. You can stay here until the Doctor gets back. And God knows when that will be." She explained to the kitten, who watched her with a rapt expression, as though he could actually understand her words.

Without warning, the cat suddenly scrambled out of her grip, kicking off her chest and sailing through the air, landing with a thump on the console. With a delighted meow of triumph, it began pouncing on the buttons and levers, knocking things about with its small paws and splattering rain water everywhere.

"No! No! No!" Clara shouted, making a grab for it and catching it by the back of it's neck. It squeaked in protest as she hauled it off the controls, churning the air with its tiny legs and giving her what she could only describe as a death-glare. "That's not a toy. I don't need you hurtling us off into the time vortex. I don't think the Doctor would approve."

The kitten mewed loudly, obviously disagreeing, but finally quit struggling and went limp in her hands.

"Good boy." She said, kissing the soft top of its head. It purred softly and closed its eyes contentedly.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Clara wished to retract her earlier statement. This kitten was _not_ being good in any way, shape, or form.

She's tried to give him a bowl of milk, but he wouldn't drink it and instead tried to climb into the refrigerator in a search for better food, and almost got himself locked in. Then, while she had her back turned to put the milk away, he wandered off and she found him trying to climb into the pocket of the Doctor's coat, which he had left hanging over the TARDIS railing.

She figured maybe playing with him would tire him out, although she'd never had much experience with what cats liked to play with before. She found a ribbon in a bin full of odds and ends and tried to get him to chase it, but he just managed to get it wrapped around his neck and nearly strangled himself.

Finally, exasperated, she set him in a box lined with a blanket and settled him down in a quiet corner of the control room, hoping maybe he'd just sleep. But she came back five minutes later to find him once again playing with the buttons and levers on the console.

"You are a piece of work, buddy." She said, holding the kitten by the back of its neck. "No wonder I wasn't allowed to have a cat when I was little."

The baby cat mewed and stared at her with what could only be a pouty expression. She huffed and kissed the top of its head. "Yes, I know, you're sweet."

When two more hours of tripping over the exuberant little fuzzball passed, and there was still no sign of the Doctor, Clara just became flat out bored. Plucking the kit off the console once again, she cradled him in her arms as she walked down the hallway. "He's late, as usual, so I suppose you're staying the night, because I'm going to bed." The kitten purred happily, obviously pleased with this statement.

Clara opened one of her dresser drawers and set the kitten down on a pile of socks. She stroked his furry little head, watching as he yawned hugely, exposing a little pink tongue and a dozen tiny teeth. "Can you sleep here tonight?" She asked. "I'll leave the drawer open, but you have to stay in here, because I can't trust you out in the TARDIS, apparently."

She almost swore the cat shrugged at her before settling down on the socks and closing its eyes. She gave him one last pat on the head and slipped off to her own bed.

Less than ten minutes later, she heard a thump across the room, and sat up to see the kitten on the floor, wandering over to the door of her room. "What are you doing?" She hissed, seriously beginning to consider putting it back where she found it.

It turned round green eyes on her and backed away from the door almost shamefully. It disappeared into the shadows for a moment before suddenly popping up again, which she realised when she felt him thump down onto her feet. Staring at her all the while, it turned in a circle a few times before flopping down at the foot of her bed, curled up into a ball.

"Okay." She sighed, too exhausted to care anymore. "You can sleep there. Goodnight."

"Meow." It responded sleepily.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Clara woke up slowly, blinking at the light in her eyes. To accommodate for the lack of actual time in it, the TARDIS changed the lights in the rooms depending on what time of day it should be. And it was currently blind-you-with-the-sun 9:00 in the morning.

Sighing heavily, she rolled over and propped herself up on her elbows, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. _The Doctor had better be back by now._ She thought, not looking forward to the idea of spending another day waiting for that ridiculous man. Maybe she should let her new-found kitten friend fly the TARDIS off after all.

_Kitten..._ She started suddenly, remembering the little stray she had taken in the other day. Immediately, she became aware of the still-present weight at her feet. _Good, he's still there_, she thought, taking her hands away from her eyes and looking down.

She was expecting to see the little ball of black-and-white fur tucked up comfortably at the foot of her bed, sleeping.

She was _not_, in any way, expecting to instead see the Doctor sprawled out across the end of her bed, his arms tucked under his head and his knees curled up to his stomach. His hair was scattered in front of his face and he was missing his coat and his bowtie. He was dead asleep, a peaceful expression on his face.

After taking in this serene sight, Clara grabbed her pillow from behind her and hurled it at his head.

It hit him dead-on in the face, causing his eyes to spring open in surprise. He tried to scramble up, but, apparently forgetting his position, rolled off the bed instead, hitting the floor with a loud _thump_ and a flailing of limbs. "Ow!"

"What are you doing?" Clara cried out breathlessly.

His head popped up from the floor, and he offered her a huge grin. "Clara!" He shouted. "Good to be able to talk to you again." He scrambled to his feet and looked down in admiration at his legs. "Ah, perfect. Two legs now."

Clara stared at him, mouth hanging open, eyes huge.

He stared back at her, still grinning hugely. "I'll explain later." He chirped simply, then darted out of her room with her still staring blanky after him.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

**[Author's Note: Alright, hands up, who saw that coming? Lol, whatever. That is what happens when I pick weird prompts out of the prompt hat. Which reminds me, in response to a Guest review: I will _gladly_ take prompts from you guys, no promises that I'll fill them, but I'll try my best. However, sorry, Guest, but I will not fill the prompt 'sucubus', because I looked up what it means and I'm afraid this isn't _that kind_ of fic. However, if you want to give me a different prompt, I'd be glad to write it. :3]**


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